Марсианские хроники

           "Itcouldaseasilybea«he,»couldn’tit?"

           Hisheartslowed.Hefeltverycoldandhollow.

           Hewantedverymuchforittobea"she."

           Hewalkedoutofthehouseandstoodinthecenteroftheearly,dimmorningstreet.

           Helistened.Notasound.Nobirds.Nocars.Onlyhisheartbeating.Beatandpauseandbeatagain.Hisfaceachedwithstrain.Thewindblewgently,ohsogently,flappinghiscoat.

           "Sh,"hewhispered."Listen."

           Heswayedinaslowcirde,turninghisheadfromonesilenthousetoanother.

           She’llphonemoreandmorenumbers,hethought.Itmustbeawoman.Why?Onlyawomanwouldcallandcall.Amanwouldn’t.Aman’sindependent.DidIphoneanyone?No!Neverthoughtofit.Itmustbeawoman.Ithastobe,byGod!

           Listen.

           Faraway,underthestars,aphonerang.

           Heran.Hestoppedtolisten.Theringing,soft.Heranafewmoresteps.Louder.Heraceddownanalley.Louderstill!Hepassedsixhouses,sixmore.Muchlouder!Hechoseahouseanditsdoorwaslocked.

           Thephoneranginside.

           "Damnyou!"Hejerkedthedoorknob.

           Thephonescreamed.

           Heheavedaporchchairthroughaparlorwindow,leapedinafterit.

           Beforeheeventouchedthephone,itwassilent.

           Hestalkedthroughthehousethenandbrokemirrors,toredowndrapes,andkickedinthekitchenstove.

           Finally,exhausted,hepickedupthethindirectorywhichlistedeveryphoneonMars.Fiftythousandnames.

           Hestartedwithnumberone.

           AmeliaAmes.HedialedhernumberinNewChicago,onehundredmilesoverthedeadsea.

           Noanswer.